Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Because of the savor of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers; we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.

I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.

As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick with love.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not, nor awake my love, till he please.

My beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.

He made its pillars of silver, the bottom of it of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst of it being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thy ointments than all spices!

I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick with love.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not, nor awake my love, until he please.

Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals of it are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.